


Mouthful of Rain

by artamisward



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-14
Updated: 2014-08-14
Packaged: 2018-02-13 02:56:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2134491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artamisward/pseuds/artamisward
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Give me that dark moment I will carry it everywhere like a mouthful of rain.” -Mary Oliver</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mouthful of Rain

It might have been an inescapable consequence of growing up alone, but Anna always thought there was a beauty in abandoned things, in empty things.

The castle—so large and imposing, sometimes ominous—stood mostly vacant. Its halls tall and empty with a sense of some warm body having just turned a corner.

When she was a child, Anna had found an abandoned shack on the outer edge of the castle grounds. It stood lonely in the midst of the natural overgrowth of something left untended. Her curiosity drove her through a door that creaked and over floorboards that protested her slight weight.

What had once been an abode full of warmth and life had become an empty, cold place that cried at the invasion of a human soul. Anna had looked around at the film of dust that covered everything and at the general dilapidation of the place. But, being the ever optimistic child, she had only seen the beauty of discovery, the excitement of adventure.

The shack became her escape from long silences at the dinner table and ignored pleas at a door that would never open for her. In its empty rooms, Anna found solace and belonging. She lounged in the beauty of the emptiness that she could fill simply with her presence.

She had made a home out of the abandoned shack. She would run wildly, happily to the place on the outer edge of the grounds she was permitted to go where her loneliness matched her surroundings. When it rained, her mouth would open to the downpour and the taste of rain would stay with her long after the sun had dried any evidence of it.

Everyday Anna would go—to laugh, to cry, to pretend her aloneness was a self-imposed choice. Everyday. Until her father, curious at her long absences, had followed her and had told her the structure was too dangerous. _You can’t make homes out of abandoned, empty things,_ he had said with a stern gravity that she hadn’t understood as a child.

But, Anna understood now.

Abandoned things were grand and imposing…and so very lonely. Their emptiness reverberated in silence; its echoes quiet in the cavernous emptiness of their hollow walls. And, Anna appreciated that sad beauty.

But, as she clutched her frozen heart and walked out of an ice castle that _felt_ like the shack that her father tore down when she was a child, Anna learned that people are not objects; they cannot so easily be appreciated and explored.

She learned people are not places, and she shouldn’t try to make a home out of them.

Looking back at Elsa’s vacant blue eyes, Anna opened her mouth and tasted frost. She knew this would stay with her like the taste of rain, like the taste of loneliness.

Hearing the heavy door slam closed behind her, Anna moved slowly forward as she had the day her father forbade her from leaving the grounds not directly attached to the castle.

Abandoned, empty things were beautiful, she knew, but they would fall and kill…in the end.


End file.
